


Twas A Fine Sunday

by christinefromsherwood



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluffy, M/M, Post BotFA, Short & Sweet, Thorin's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a normal Sunday when Thorin Oakenshield returned to the Shire for the first time in five years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twas A Fine Sunday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [singthestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singthestars/gifts).



> This short thing came to be written through a lovely Tumblr ask game called _send me the 1st sentence of a fic and I'll the next 5_ as can be seen I took singthestars's sentence and kinda ran away with it :D
> 
> So, the first sentence: "It was a normal Sunday when Thorin Oakenshield returned to the Shire for the first time in five years." is entirely hers.

It was a normal Sunday when Thorin Oakenshield returned to the Shire for the first time in five years.

This time he found his way just fine too, thank you very much! No thanks to the advice of his two young nephews who, through some delusion that he might lose his way, travel far west and sail away with the elves by mistake, insisted on “being the guides” and went well out of the way of their mission to Ered Luin. 

A fond smile stretched across his lips quickly, before his face returned back to its usual state of neutral, regal indifference.

If forced to be entirely honest with himself, Thorin would admit that he was nervous, almost painfully so. It had been some time since he met the burgl-... his burglar?... well... _his friend_ Bilbo last and the truth was that though he had never been a vain dwarf, one glance at a mirror was all it took for him to realise that the five years of ruling had not been kind to him. 

Now it was more than only several silver strands running through his long mane of hair. And somehow the heaviness of his grandfather's crown carved deep lines into the face that used to be as smooth and hard as the cool marble of Erebor's many collums. 

Add to that several months of travel through all manners of roads and weather and… well, lets just say that their ponies looked far better groomed than he did. 

What would Bilbo say?! Mahal knew that the...  _friendship_  they had developed had been delicate and unpredictable even with all the ravens Erebor could spare and-

Thorin felt the tension in his gut grow as Kili bounced up to the round green door and pounded on them with his fists. 

Any moment now…

"Well, I never!" screeched a familiar voice from behind the door and even amid all his nervousness Thorin felt the need to direct one of his more majestic frowns towards his younger and much less dignified nephew. "I’ve told you a thousand times: you shall _not_ dig around in my garden for treasure! Just wait till I get my hands on you, you little-!" 

The green door flew open and Thorin’s heart leapt high in his chest as a most welcome sight greeted his eyes. 

There he stood.

His curly, honey-coloured locks mussed, eyes blazing, cheeks red, his mouth half-opened as he stared at the company that was stood on his doorstep. 

_His Bilbo._

"Tho- Tho- Tho- Thorin?" he stammered and there was a loud clatter as his  _sword?_  fell out of his grasp. “Er- don’t mind that! It’s a game we play… How are you- How did you-  _Thorin_!”

If his nephews felt a bit excluded from this greeting, Thorin felt it quite easy to ignore any and all of their protests or sounds of indignantion as he found his attention quite thoroughly captivated by the sight of a leaping hobbit.

One that flew straight into his arms and while repeating “You’re here, you’re really truly here!” clutched at him almost desperately.

Indeed, for all Thorin cared his nephews might as well not have been present at all as he blinked away the moisture in his eyes and with one thumb stroking up and down Bilbo’s soft cheek, lowered his mouth to his. 


End file.
